


Hanzo is a Dog Person

by LunartheDragon



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dogs, Gen, Hanzo loves dogs, M/M, Multi, Oops, also everybody BUT Hanzo keeps getting a pupper it seems
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-15 09:35:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7217152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunartheDragon/pseuds/LunartheDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone expects the resident grouch of Overwatch to be fond of animals of the feline variety. They’re quiet and calm, right? Perfect for Hanzo Shimada, right? Except expectations very rarely turn out to be true in Overwatch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Genji

**Author's Note:**

> A series of chapters centering around different Overwatch characters realizing or finding out that Hanzo is a sucker for dogs. Let me know what you think! Not beta’d and probably full of typos and mistakes but fuck it, I’ll deal with that later.
> 
> Also more tags will be added as it goes on! Including pairings and such.

Overwatch was a place of new beginnings, a fresh start to those ravaged by time and past mistakes, a home to those who needed one. Despite it not being a new concept, and the fact that in this current iteration it was illegal, it still had a kind of aura of bright, shiny, and new. A ragtag group of people no one ever expected could work well together growing into a not very seamless family. But then again, was there really such a thing?

Genji had grown to see Overwatch as his safe haven, his unexpected family, not a single one of the same blood. It felt like it wasn’t real sometimes, that this had to be a hallucination or a trick of some kind, but no, it was very real. So it made sense that, once he had grown and found his own inner peace, at large part thanks to this new family, he had wanted to include his blood family.

It had taken some time and much patience, but the day Hanzo had finally appeared at one of the bases and requested he join Overwatch had been a very happy day. Genji believed this would be best for both Hanzo and their broken connection. Hanzo needed to heal, he needed another chance, he needed to learn to forgive himself. And hopefully Overwatch would give him that opportunity the same it had done for Genji.

The first few weeks were rough, to put it lightly. Hanzo could barely even look at Genji, let alone be in his presence, a guilty knot twisting up in his gut when he laid eyes on his cybernetic brother. Genji understood, he could be patient. They were sent on separate missions for the time being so their strained relationship would not cause any problems on the field. Again, Genji understood. Hanzo kept his distance from nearly everyone, really, but it did bring Genji very poignant joy when he occasionally saw Hanzo speaking freely with another Overwatch member. He was still awkward, and the conversation was sparse, but he was getting slowly more comfortable as time went on. Hanzo mostly preferred to speak to the older soldiers, mostly 76 and Reinhardt, but sometimes Genji would spot D. Va jabbering quickly at his nervous brother or Zarya applauding Hanzo for showing off his physique. The most surprising one, however, was when Hanzo and McCree spoke together, the two seemingly opposing forces finding an odd rhythm together. Genji certainly wasn’t going to complain, he was simply happy his brother was slowly growing more comfortable.

When Hanzo and Genji did finally sit down and have a proper talk, it had been nearly two months. It was awkward and tense, but it was something. Still they had difficulties but a few more talks later and they were at least able to be in the same room together. Hanzo tried to make an effort of asking how Genji was doing when they crossed paths, a simple question, but a step forward. They were getting somewhere, speaking on trivial things, but this was where the problems really surfaced.

They didn’t know each other anymore. They had both seen it coming, knew they would have to deal with it eventually, but it was much more jarring than they had expected. Their body language was different, their outlooks were different, even their fighting styles had changed. Genji always knew his brother to be relatively distant, but in the past it had been due to honor and he still had time to smile at his brother or sneak him a snack from the kitchens. Now that distance was due to sadness, a separation from the rest of the world so he could wallow in his guilt. And he believed he deserved it.

Hanzo, despite being a serious man, also used to have a biting, dark sense of humor, and was incredibly sarcastic. Now he never cracked any kind of jokes and his sarcasm verged on nasty at the best of times.

Genji was sure Hanzo wasn’t doing much better, expecting Genji to act out or be his past little shit self, but instead received a calm, collected, and very still man. 

They had a long ways to go, a lot of things to unlearn and rediscover about one another, but Genji was confident it would work out. It only helped whenever he saw the things that he did recognize. The things he remembered Hanzo liking or disliking, the things he did unconsciously or consciously, showing themselves here, in this new version of his older brother he was relearning.

Genji, at first, hadn’t actually noticed that things he found familiar in Hanzo were still there. They were considered normal for him, why would he have spotted them? He didn’t blink twice when Hanzo would snatch an apple every time there were any in sight, or how he put so much creamer and sugar in his coffee it may as well have been syrup. He found it natural when Hanzo’s empty hands would clench and unclench when he was angry or how he would scratch his ear when he was flustered. He didn’t question why Hanzo’s room, at whatever base they were at, was always so cold or why he would cough, an attempt at covering a laugh, at any terrible anti joke anyone said within hearing range.

When Genji did notice that the old Hanzo, the Hanzo he was familiar with, was still there and bleeding through, was on their first mission together. They had been doing a lot better with communication and had been trusted to be able to act professionally if sent out together. It was a simple intel retrieval mission in King’s Row, one of Genji’s less preferred locations, but it wasn’t too bad during daylight hours. Somewhat. He still did not care for it.

It was day out, however, and they could not make any big moves until after the sunset, their apparent informant a paranoid omnic who refused to be seen outside of their home during daylight hours. So Genji, Hanzo, Tracer, and Pharah were left to scout the area and appear as natural as possible so as not to raise suspicion. It wasn’t the citizens of King’s Row that grew suspicious, however, but instead Genji. Hanzo was trained in stealth the same as Genji, both their skills unmatched, but Genji had become hyperaware of his brother upon him joining Overwatch so it came as no surprise that he was the only one to notice when suddenly Hanzo wasn’t walking with them anymore.

Genji had glanced behind them and, after a moment, spotted Hanzo exiting a nearby alleyway, not visually seeming any different but somehow still giving off a happier aura. Genji tilts his head curiously and asks lowly if everything is alright once Hanzo rejoins them.

A very light dusting of pink rises into the archer’s cheeks and he scratches an ear subconsciously. “Yes,” is all he says so Genji drops it. It happens again, however, Hanzo disappearing for a few seconds then returning with a pointedly brighter feeling about him. It wasn’t until the forth time when he returned with his one free strand of hair seeming to be mussed, the same side of his face looking a little damp, and… was that fur on his sleeve? Genji stared out of the corner of his eye, utterly surprised as a memory hit him.

He couldn’t have been much older than six, his big brother nine, when there was a clattering at his and Hanzo’s bedroom door. It was technically past their bedtime but Hanzo was nowhere to be found, until the door slid open and the eldest Shimada child nearly fell in, his hair a mess and mud smeared all over from a recent rain. Hanzo slid the door shut quickly and scrambled further in. Genji watched as his usually composed brother appeared positively ecstatic, an odd bulge in his yukata that he was holding to his chest with utmost care. 

When Hanzo looked up and locked eyes with his little brother he grinned and came over to him, kneeling beside his bedroll and saying quietly, “Look at this! I found her outside of the compound.” He then pulled open his yukata enough to let the head of a puppy pop out, her fur a pretty gold, matted from the rain and mud, and her tongue lolling out. Genji had begun petting the puppy immediately then helped his brother dry her off then looked after her while Hanzo snuck off to get her something to eat.

They began chattering about whether their father would let them keep her, they were positive he couldn’t say no to such a sweet face, what they should name her, what kind of toys they would get her, what color collar she would have. In the morning they had approached their father and had tasted one of the sourest instances of disappointment as their father said no to them keeping the dog. He had been nice enough to help find her a home, let the boys meet the family she would be going to, but it was done so coldly and quickly it hardly helped. Genji had been sad, but Hanzo had been heart broken.

The trend continued, however. Hanzo would find a stray dog, bring them home, and he and usually Genji would clean them up and treat them well. Each time their father denied letting them keep the dog and would send it away. The trend of personally finding the dogs a new home was short lived and soon the dogs were just being sent to the pound. Eventually they started hiding the dogs, which never worked either, and in the end would usually just take them in for the night then let them loose, or at least leave food out for them just outside their family compound’s walls. The guards never minded, usually helping them actually.

Genji enjoyed it, but that it was Hanzo who truly got invested, through their entire lives. Genji still remembers an instance when he and Hanzo had had a huge argument, a sadly common occurrence later on in their years, but that very night Hanzo, a twenty-year-old, showing up at Genji’s room with two husky puppies under his arms. Argument forgotten they had cared for the pups for a few days until a friend of Genji’s had happily taken them in. 

Now that Genji was looking at Hanzo, nearly a stranger at times in this new life, he was seeing something familiar. The saliva stain on his cheek from a dog’s kisses, hair messy probably from over excited paws jumping up at him, fur just about on every article of clothing.

The next time Hanzo disappeared Genji snuck after him, wanting to make absolutely sure, and sure enough he found Hanzo near a random restaurant, approaching a stray pitbull he had spotted. He let the dog sniff the back of his hand and almost immediately the canine could tell he could trust this human. Hanzo bent slightly at his hips to gently pat the dog’s head, getting a few licks to his fingers as he did. He didn’t give off much emotion through facial expressions, but now the slightest tug of a smile was pulling at his lips, eyes seeming to glow. Genji nearly choked up, the sight both heartbreaking and sweet. 

Hanzo said nothing for a while until finally he spoke lowly, “Do you remember when we were little, how you hated going to festivals with me?” Genji wasn’t surprised Hanzo was aware of him as he stepped closer. He let the pitbull sniff his hand as well before crouching down and scratching at his shoulders.

“Yes, it was very frustrating. Every time you saw a dog you had to stop to go and pet it.” A smile spread over Genji’s face, hidden behind his mask, and he tilts his head in the direction of his brother, watching as his carefully composed mask reappears on his face, yet somehow still he looks happy.

Hanzo huffs, something of a laugh, and shakes his head. “I could not help myself,” he pauses, scratching under the dog’s chin, “You would complain and have to drag me away, like you were the one looking after me instead of the other way around.”

“The only time that ever happened,” Genji mused, remembering all the times Hanzo had lectured him, bailed him out of trouble, looked after him. 

Again Hanzo huffs, nodding. “True.”

There’s a long silence, their new canine friend completely in heaven at the attention he’s getting, and Hanzo reaches into a pouch on his belt to pull out a small piece of jerky to hand to the dog. Genji can’t help but let out a sudden, loud laugh, not seeming to startle the dog who is busy munching on the jerky, but effectively gets Hanzo’s attention.

“What?” Hanzo asks, defensive and for a moment Genji sees some youth in him, but it’s gone a moment later. He tries not to let that bother him too much. Instead he motions to the pouch apparently full of jerky.

“Good to know some things never change,” he laughs, a memory of Hanzo secretly carrying dog treats with him everywhere they went in their youth popping up. A blush sprouts on Hanzo’s face and he quickly looks away, scratching his ear. He couldn’t really say anything without digging himself into a deeper hole. He couldn’t claim they were his and he was just sharing simply because he didn’t like jerky, the texture not pleasant for him. So he stayed quiet as Genji’s laughter died down to subtle shaking of his shoulders.

After another stretch of silence Hanzo finally gave the dog a final pat on its head before stepping away. “We should return to the others,” he says simply, turning away and beginning to walk. Genji can’t stop smiling behind his mask as he follows, for a moment the air between he and his brother not filled with tense, awkward energy. There’s a familiar ease to it, and while Genji knows it will not last, he basks in it, takes it all in.

When they catch up to Tracer and Pharah it’s obvious they noticed the brothers’ absence, but they don’t say anything, just begin walking again as a group. The mission goes smoothly, nearly no opposition other than their informant continuously checking that they aren’t Talon, and it is marked an easy success as they board a transport back to base the following day. 

That tense air is back between the Shimada brothers but Genji finds it is not as difficult to deal with any longer, the mere thought that he can still see who he remembers Hanzo to be in this new Hanzo. It feels like things will be a little easier from here, that they can find common ground again and build up from there. And Hanzo still has dog fur on his sleeve.


	2. D.Va

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> D.va is much smarter than she looks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! D.va's turn! Also, you may notice that I am cluing in that this will probably also be a mchanzo story, so I'll go ahead and add that to the tags, even though McCree hasn't really officially shown up yet.

D.va wasn’t a dumb girl. She was observant and clever and crafty. She wondered what it was about a bubbly personality and general optimism that made so many see her as somehow less intelligent. Certainly she was young, the youngest member of Overwatch, but that did not mean she did not have experience. Gamer or not, young girl or not, she had seen combat and done pretty well if she did say so herself. Yet still people tended to jump to the conclusion she was just some naïve little girl, mostly voicing such thoughts in comments and messages online.

Hana Song had no intention of changing her personality at all for these people, and if that meant some enemy underestimated her than that just meant it would be all the easier and more satisfying to fling her self destructing mech into their face.

The Overwatch knew better than to underestimate her, mostly taking a generally protective stance around her due to habit and just knowing she was still the youngest and there were other obstacles other than combat she still had yet to face. She was grateful to them honestly, it was kind and touching.

It came as no surprise, however, when she was one of the first ones to notice. Notice their resident, grumpy archer glancing over whenever someone started playing a cute animal video and barking was heard. Notice that same archer just about squirm out of his skin from trying to stay where he was, in one of the most unmoving squirmings Hana had ever seen, whenever they were out and someone was walking their canine nearby. Notice how when he was sent out with a few people to assist in getting groceries or supplies, he would stash a bag of jerky or small dog treats away in one of the pouches on his belt.

Hana remembered comparing Hanzo’s personality upon first joining Overwatch to that of a frazzled cat, uncertain of their new surroundings and all the people everywhere. Now, however, she was beginning to rethink her assessment. Yes, he had still been similar to a skittish animal, but perhaps not a cat?

Hana was certain she was right, but she felt it only right to make sure. A test was in order and she had the perfect weapon.

The internet.

They had all been waiting out in one of their very few, nicer bases after a rather large mission against the Vishkar Corporation. They had figured about two weeks of waiting would give them amiable cover and not raise too many suspicions before they continued on with their work.

Hana lounged happily at the kitchen table. It wasn’t very large, just a circular, wooden table that could maybe make space for eight people if they squeezed really close. It was situated right by the kitchenette and a few paces away was a small resting area with a single couch, a recliner, and a coffee table. Sitting in the couch was Lucio, his head bobbing to whatever was playing through his headphones and a computer in his lap, some kind of music program open as he worked. The only sound was the steady tap of Lucio’s fingers and the pop of Hana’s gum, her phone in hand as she skimmed through youtube. 

Around this time Hanzo tended to show up to make some tea, and snatch an apple if there were any, and Hana was prepared.

Right on time the familiar footsteps of the eldest Shimada approached the room and Hanzo entered. It was interesting how his footsteps could be completely silent if he wanted them to be, yet here he let the light clicking of the prosthetics be heard. McCree had teased the archer for it once, about Hanzo finally getting cozy with them, promptly making Hanzo blush and growl something biting back which only succeeded in making McCree laugh. 

Hmm… That was another thing. McCree and Hanzo sure had gotten close lately. Perhaps Hana would have to have an “experiment” for that as well. But first, it was show time.

Hanzo set about making his tea, and did indeed grab an apple to start nibbling on it. It isn’t until he moves to the small island to pour it into a cup that Hana finally clicks play on the video she had opened up. Immediately the sound of a tiny puppy whining is heard, very pointedly breaking the silence. 

Hana has to force herself to not look up when she hears the silent pouring of tea abruptly stop then swiftly continue. She pretends the smirk on her face is for the video on her screen. It is rather cute, a fluffy malamute puppy running around in someone’s backyard, trying to catch whoever is holding the phone, and making tiny whines and unthreatening growls and yips as they go.

Hana hears the sound of the teapot being set down and then nothing. No footsteps, no crunching of an apple, no sip or even the sound of the cup being picked up. She assumes Hanzo may just be frozen and she really wishes she could look over but it would just ruin her whole experiment.

After a while the video ends and Hana opens another she had already found and saved. This time of another puppy growling at a flower yet seeming to also be afraid of it, only making slight lunges for it.

Finally she hears the noise of the tea cup being lifted and the light shuffle of feet. It would still be considered quiet footsteps for most people, but for Hanzo he may as well have been stomping on bubble wrap. Even around the people he tended to like the most he didn’t walk that loudly. And the fact it wasn’t just steps, there was shuffling in it, Hana could only come to the conclusion that it was his version of some kind of flustered scramble.

After a few moments and about half way through the video Hanzo has found his way a few feet behind Hana, peaking over her shoulder at the phone screen. Hana has to pinch her lips tight together from bursting out laughing.

After a while of silence from the archer the video ends and Hana pulls up yet another saved video, this one of a very smaller husky puppy attempting to howl for at least five minutes. Behind her Hana heres a very, very quiet choking noise.

“What are you doing?” Finally! He speaks! Hana doesn’t even care that Hanzo somehow sounds accusing. It was too late, she definitely had him now. But she had to play it cool, don’t let on that she totally had an ulterior motive to all this. So she look over her shoulder as if surprised at Hanzo’s sudden appearance, mouth forming an ‘o’ and brows raising. Later on she would probably realize it didn’t look very convincing.

“Oh! Hi’ya Hanzo!” she chirps cheerfully then motions to her phone, “I’m just watching some cute animal videos. Sometimes you just get in a puppy mood, y’know? Aren’t they adorable?” Hanzo makes a very carefully neutral sound but now that Hana is finally getting a chance to look at him she notices his eyes are a little wider than usual, excited perhaps, his half eaten apple in one hand and his still full cup of tea in the other. “Do you wanna join me? It’s sure to put a smile on that grumpy face!” 

Hanzo somehow tears his eyes away from the howling puppy to give Hana an unimpressed look. “I do not have time,” he says sharply and Hana allows herself to roll her eyes and turn back to her phone screen.

“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Serious has to get back to work. Honor honor honor and all that jazz. Talk to me when you wanna actually live a little, alright Zuko?” Hana doubts Hanzo knows who Prince Zuko is but she basks in her cleverness nonetheless. Hanzo grumbles something in Japanese Hana can’t understand but she doesn’t mind, because he still hasn’t left. When the video ends and she changes to a new one she gets a moment where she sees Hanzo still behind her in the reflection on the screen. 

She pretends not to notice. Instead she just plays more videos, mostly puppies, but a few grown dogs as well. They’re all adorable and she notes she can hear Hanzo occasionally take a sip of his tea as they watch, if only because they’re so close.

Eventually, however, Hana decides to go into the next step of her experiment, equally created out of her own curiosity and, in a bit of kindness, allowing Hanzo an easy exit if he still wished to retain some of his dignity.

Hana turns on a cat video next. No one can deny that it’s cute, a munchkin cat trying desperately to catch a sparkly toy. It seems to do the trick, however, snapping Hanzo to reality and when the video ends Hanzo is gone from the screen’s reflection.

Hana finally exits youtube and looks back at where the archer had once been, a shit eating grin on her face. “Guess I’ll deem this experiment a success,” she giggles, thinking that Winston should be proud of her and her devotion to a cause.

Her giddy excitement at her success is momentarily stalled as her phone buzzes and she notes a new Snapchat from Lucio. She raises her brows in surprise and confusion before glancing over at the DJ, who seems to have not really moved since this whole experiment began. When she opens up the image, however, she can’t help but holler in laughter. 

On her screen is simply an image of Hana and Hanzo, from the couch’s vantage point, Hana smiling at her screen impishly and Hanzo behind her, leaning forward and eyes wide and sparkling while he watches over her shoulder. The best part, however, is the bright, neon colored little sketched dog ears placed on Hanzo’s head and a crudely drawn, wagging tail, along with an assortment of hearts and glitter above the archer’s head.

Again Hana looks over at Lucio, who is now looking back at her with a massive grin that mirrors her own. A moment later Hana is tripping over the back of the couch and sitting upside down beside Lucio to begin plotting more “experiments.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, not beta'd or proofread yet, just kinda putting out there now and will go and fix stuff later!


	3. Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mercy's medical supplies keep going missing, especially at Gibraltar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three features the lovely Mercy! I'll admit, this doesn't necessarily feel like one of my strongest until later in the chapter, but I do hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> Again, the big mchanzo chapter won't be until later, but there is a sprinkling of it in every chapter, mostly from that chapter's character's pov.
> 
> I also have it planned out the order I'm doing things so, as a little teaser, next chapter will be Soldier 76's turn!

Mercy’s medical supplies kept going missing.

She wasn’t sure exactly when it began, or even how, but one day she realized that three packages of bandage wraps were gone, and she knew it was three because she had counted her supply that morning. It had been very confusing, and even more so when the next morning all three little boxes were mysteriously returned, one of which already opened and some of the bandages gone.

After that particular incident, Mercy began to really notice. It was never anything serious or threatening to any of her patients, and usually most of the supplies would be returned the day or two after, with some of them gone or only partially returned. It was usually just bandages, tweezers, alcohol, or Neosporin, but it was still very unexpected and, honestly, frustrating.

Mercy didn’t like that someone was apparently avoiding her medical care, for what else could the cause really be? She doubted any possible injuries were dire, but they could be if not treated properly, and she could treat them properly. If someone in Overwatch was getting hurt she needed to know about it, it was her responsibility. So she began to keep closer tabs.

No matter where they were stationed there was a pretty good chance some supplies would vanish, but it seemed to happen the most while they were at Gibraltar. Mercy wondered what it was about the watchpoint that evidently caused the most injuries. It was deserted and falling apart, save for the areas Winston had mostly occupied, and there were plenty of places to trip and break something or cut something with a rusty piece of scrap metal, but all that seemed urgent enough that any sensible agent would come see Mercy herself.

So then what was it about this location that really may cause the odd phenomenon? Mercy decided she would have to be extra vigilant about any other incidences that mostly occurred at Gibraltar that may be a clue to this little mystery.

It took some time, a few weeks actually, before she was able to come up with a bit of a list, but she wasn’t really sure what any of them meant. Winston was always in a much happier mood, but that was because a lot of his gear was still here and it was easy for him to work on some of his experiments the moment they got in and were able to relax. Torbjorn was also usually in a good mood but his was for a similar reason to Winston’s, that he was getting a chance to really work on some of his personal ideas and designs, what with all the scraps and tools around. Neither of these observations really helped Mercy out save for making her smile a little.

What did stand out to her, however, was Hanzo. The newest addition to Overwatch was mostly a mystery to Mercy. She knew his story, but then again everyone did at this point, but she didn’t know the man personally. He tended to avoid crowds, skirting around the edges to get to where he needed. He much preferred small groups and comfortable silences, and while he and Mercy had spoken a few times on trivial matters not work related, it was barely a dent in her knowing more about the archer. What Mercy did know was that he was strong, reliable, and independent.

Which is why it seemed a little odd that every time he and Mercy were both at Gibraltar together he appeared in her medical wing with some ailment or another. Sometimes he claimed he couldn’t sleep, sometimes he said his prosthetics were jamming, sometimes he had a wound from training, sometimes it was headaches, and sometimes it just seemed to be pure paranoia. While Mercy never faulted anyone for seeking out her care, it was what she was here for and no one was invincible, it began to seem odd. None of this ever occurred anywhere else, only really at Gibraltar. Hanzo was a proud man who seemed to prefer to keep his pain concealed, one time coming in with a cut he had thought was nothing that got infected, or another time when he was literally carried in by McCree who said he was sick and he needed assistance, ignoring every icy, puffy-eyed glare sent his way. 

But in Gibraltar? Hanzo was like a ticking time bomb of minor problems. Mercy was almost completely positive it was the eldest Shimada sibling who was nabbing her medical supplies, but she had no idea why he would do such a thing, nor did she actually have any evidence save for a hunch. She wasn’t necessarily mad at the archer, but she did want to give him a stern talk if it did turn out to be him, so Mercy set about a way to find out.

It was getting later in the day, the sun setting outside and bouncing orange and gold light around the facility. Most everyone had already had their supper and headed to their quarters for the day and Mercy was on her way to do the same when she spotted her “suspect” walking completely silent down an adjacent hall. It was pure coincidence, really, that she ended up spotting him but she had no intention of looking this gift horse in the mouth. 

Mercy wasn’t the stealthiest person on the team, far from it really, but she tried her hardest to not be noticed as she followed after the archer, curiosity and suspicion fueling her actions. Hanzo wasn’t heading for the kitchen or a training room, but he still walked with the confidence of someone who knew exactly where they intended to be. Mercy stayed a very good distance behind him, but if she was really being honest with herself Hanzo had probably already noticed her and didn’t care. It was an interesting skill, seeming to know exactly who was nearby, that both Shimada brothers shared.

Eventually Hanzo ducked through the garage and out a side door to a generally secluded area Mercy only distantly remembered was dirt and grass. The medic waited a moment longer, giving the archer a second, before following after, footsteps as light as can be. The door doesn’t make much noise despite Mercy being pretty sure it isn’t used often, and she peaks out. For a moment she doesn’t see Hanzo, the sunset throwing long, jarring shadows over the little, grassy area beside the building, but then she sees movement to her right, along the wall, and she steps all the way out. The door closes behind her but she hardly notices.

Hanzo is sitting cross-legged with his back to the wall, an open pack of bandages sitting on the ground beside him, and what appears to be a brown dog laying in front of him, it’s head resting in his lap. Mercy watches in flabbergasted surprise as the stoic archer wraps the dog’s leg with the bandages, his fingers expertly and gently moving over and around the limb. When he deems the bandages are in order and will hold up well he sets the remaining, clean bandages back in their box then settles with just petting the dog’s head. There’s a rhythmic “thunk thunk thunk thunk” noise that Mercy just then notices is the dog’s tail wagging and hitting the ground.

“Good evening, Doctor,” Mercy shouldn’t be as surprised as she is when Hanzo speaks to her, not looking up at her.

“Good evening, Hanzo,” she replies politely, her tone just showing a bit of her wonder. Of all the things she had thought Hanzo may be needing the supplies for, this was not what she had expected. A warm little feeling flutters in her chest and she can’t help the smile that is slowly growing on her face. Not what she expected at all, but certainly a happy surprise. “May I join you?” she asks gently.

Hanzo still isn’t looking up, his body is still save for the gentle hand running over the dog’s head, but after a moment he nods, giving a slight motion to the space beside him. Mercy’s smile grows a little more before she is coming over and sitting down gracefully beside the archer, keeping a respectful space between them. Now that she is closer she can see that the dog is a Boxer, its tongue lolling out of its mouth and its eyes glancing up at the newcomer, not seeming bothered.

“He’s cute,” she observes, deciding calm conversation is a good way to begin.

“She.”

“She,” Mercy nods, correcting herself and smiling, not seeming to find Hanzo’s curtness as biting as usual with him being so gentle with this dog. She glances at the archer now, pulling her eyes away from the dog, and has to bite back a giggle. The poor man’s ears are red and his cheeks aren’t much better. For Hanzo it has to be the most flustered Mercy has ever seen him. 

The medic takes a moment to gather herself before continuing the conversation. “Is she yours?”

“No,” is Hanzo’s quick reply. He still won’t look up.

“Is she anyone’s?”

That question seems to make Hanzo stall, something a little sad flickering in his eyes before it’s gone with a heavy sigh. He keeps staring at the Boxer as he shakes his head. “No. She is a stray. Like the others,” he replies and Mercy takes a moment to appreciate she was pulling more words out of the man. Then the actual words settle in her head and her brows knit together.

Others? Now that Hanzo mentioned it, it made sense. Mercy had never seen any stray dogs around, but she was usually holed up in her medical wing or spending time with her friends. Gibraltar had a lot of little nooks and crannies, though, perfect spots for animals to hide or live, and it would be easy to walk along the rode to get to more wooded areas to hunt for food.

“They get wounded easily,” Hanzo is saying and Mercy’s head snaps up to look at him, not realizing she had zoned out while she thought. “All of the scraps everywhere,” he explains. Mercy looks around at the little section they’re sitting in. Just about ever inch of land around the watchpoint had pieces of metal strewn about. The agents had done their best to clean up but mostly only the areas they frequented really got a good cleaning, and even then there was still a chance of finding a screw or nail or scrap somewhere. This little alcove, however, seemed to have been gone over diligently, not a single piece of scrap in sight. It made sense that any stray staying around this area would wind up getting cut or hurt, no matter how familiar they may be.

“You have been taking my supplies to help the strays around Gibraltar?” Mercy asks, finally looking back at Hanzo, her expression curious but patient. She already knew the answer, it was rather obvious, but she felt she should ask anyway. Hanzo pauses, his back and shoulder muscles stiffening, before he nods slowly.

“I have,” he replies lowly, his tone mostly flat save for something that sounds just a pinch like shame. There is a long stretch of silence, Mercy watching Hanzo and the Boxer, waiting for the archer to continue. Eventually he does, voice still low and quiet, like if he spoke any louder he would shatter the awkward but peaceful air. “Have I caused you any problems, Doctor?”

For a moment Mercy just stares at him, brows raised, somehow surprised at the question. She hadn’t been expecting him to worry, if that was what that was. However he silence falls when she begins to giggle. It’s hardly the flittering noise most people like to associate her with, but rather nasally and just a little too high. It sounds real and somehow much more comforting than the “angelic” giggle many people expect.

“Heavens, no,” she replies as her giggling ceases, kind eyes laying back on the dog in Hanzo’s lap, her tail still wagging, fresh bandages around her leg. “You never caused any problems,” she reaches over as she speaks to run a light hand over the Boxer’s flank, not meeting any opposition from canine or man, “I followed you because I was concerned you were tending your own wounds without proper medical assistance. I had a lecture prepared and everything.”

Mercy doesn’t miss the twitch of Hanzo’s lips at her light-hearted words and while it doesn’t form into a full smile she takes it as a victory nonetheless. Her own smile fades as the lapse into silence once more, her eyes lowering as she becomes more serious.

“I would ask, however, that you do not sneak around me anymore. It is sweet that you help these animals and you should not feel you must hide it from me,” one of her hands slowly raises to lay against Hanzo’s shoulder. The archer twitches but doesn’t brush off the contact. “Next time just ask me. And if you are uncertain what to do with an injury, while I am no veterinarian, I would love to help.”

For a while Hanzo says nothing, his eyes somehow becoming more focused on the dog in his lap, before he lets out a long sigh, his body deflating by just a fraction. “Very well,” he says as if it is somehow a burden to him, but Mercy feels it is only for show. The medic smiles at the answer, giving the broad, tattooed shoulder a momentary squeeze, before pulling both her hands into her lap.

“Thank you.” Hanzo grunts but appears to be done talking about this particular subject.

Eventually the Boxer does decide to leave, getting up and, after a few experimental steps on her healing leg, carefully limps away, Hanzo’s eyes on her like a hawk. Both the archer and medic stand, brushing off some dirt, before standing facing each other awkwardly. At least Hanzo was looking at Mercy now, but she wasn’t sure what she should say. While she felt she had gotten a very important glimpse into Hanzo’s world she still wasn’t sure how to interact with him in a casual manner.

Evidently Hanzo takes pity on her and speaks up first. “The strays around here know to come to this spot if injured,” he explains, pauses, then turns to look over his shoulder at a far wall, motioning with his head. “Or to get food.” Sure enough a few bowls have been set out with both food and water inside, not a single bowl matching. Mercy’s smile brightens at the sight and she looks to Hanzo with soft eyes.

“You have been doing this for some time, then?” she inquires. She knew he had simply from knowing how long her supplies had been going missing. The tips of the archer’s turn pink and he clears his throat before replying.

“Yes. My brother and McCree assist me as well when they are here and I am not.” Mercy arches a delicate brow. So Genji and Jesse were in on this as well? How much cuter could this situation get?

After a beat Mercy reaches forward to lay her hand on Hanzo’s shoulder once more but this time Hanzo gently moves out of it. Mercy takes no offense. She has a feeling she had only been allowed in the past due to the calming presence of the Boxer.

“Will you allow me to assist as well?”

Hanzo can’t hide the surprised raise of his brows, blinking a few times in surprise before shaking his head out of it, features mostly schooled again save for the upward twitch of his lips. He gives a single nod and says, again in a tone that sounds burden but Mercy is sure is only for show, “Very well.”

The next time Mercy is at Gibraltar, Hanzo is not. When she goes out to refill some of the bowls, like she promised, she is greeted by a familiar Boxer who lops up to her, tail wagging, tongue lolling out like a smile, and limp gone.


	4. Soldier 76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soldier 76 was prepared for a lot on his missions, but not everything. Hanzo is a mystery to a lot of them, but with this most recent surprise, Soldier feels perhaps he's beginning to know their local grumpy archer a bit better.

Despite popular belief, Jack Morrison did not enjoy fighting. He did not enjoy going into missions, guns blazing, and stepping over still steaming corpses as they pushed on. He hoped he never enjoyed it, for wouldn’t that just take away the last remnants of his humanity? The last pieces that kept him from fully becoming the Soldier. 

What he believed when he walked into these missions, ready to take out anyone that got in his way, that threatened him and his teammates, was that it was necessary. He had to stop them before anyone else got hurt. Better he got a bullet in his shoulder than an innocent got one in their head. He could handle the pain, he could handle the guilt, this was what he was good at.

This mentality was also why he didn’t throw a huge fit when sent on missions and nine times out of ten he was put in charge. He wasn’t the leader of Overwatch anymore, nor did he ever want to be again, but he knew he had experience, and the other agents knew he had experience. It was logical and good strategic planning to put him in charge as often as possible, and while it left a bad taste in Jack’s mouth, he knew the reality of the situation. He knew that this was best until they got more experienced leader-type individuals in their ranks.

The mission at hand was honestly pretty simple. A small Talon base had been located, hidden away in a pine forest in the United State’s deep south. It was an odd location, but Jack supposed that was why they’d picked it. If it weren’t for some intel from a Talon agent they had intercepted during a mission in King’s Row, they would have had no idea to ever even glance over in this direction. Even with the information it had still taken weeks for them to locate the place. The building was small, and hidden by trees, and cloaking devices had been set up surrounding it to throw off any prying eyes. Winston had theorized that the majority of the compound was probably underground, since what they saw could hardly be called a cabin.

Jack-- no, Soldier right now. The Soldier had brought with him Lucio, Hanzo, Reinhardt, McCree, and Tracer. The plan was for Tracer to start some kind of commotion and draw away some of the guards milling around. With her speed it would be easy to confuse and disorient them, but also give her the advantage of getting away quickly. With the numbers cut Hanzo would be able to sneak in, dispatch of any remaining agents inside the initial entrance of the cabin. Once they were dealt with than the remaining agents outside could be dealt with by McCree, Reinhardt, and Solider without alerting anyone inside and, by extension, anyone further within the underground compound. From there they could enter, with Reinhardt leading, followed by Tracer, Soldier, and McCree, and taking up the rear would be Hanzo and Lucio. Their goal was to find the main power source and shut it down using explosives developed by Torbjorn. Not only would it blow the whole system and the surrounding area, but a specialized EMP blast would also be set off, effectively ending any surrounding, undetected technology. The explosion would surely collapse the compound too so they had a timer set up for ten minutes to get back out.

So far the plan was going well, Tracer had managed to drive away a little less than half of the patrolling agents, which was less than ideal, but Hanzo swore he could easily get through what remained. He checked his comm, readjusted his bow and quiver, and was off in a flash. It was like he’d just disappeared. Soldier had thankfully gotten used to it. The first time it had happened he thought he may have gone insane.

The remainder of the group waited hidden away in the brush, staying updated from Tracer and where she was. She did not engage, that was important for the time being. “So I’m basically playing phantom?” she’d joked when given her orders. Soldier had rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Sure.”

Tracer had whooped in excitement and began to giggle maniacally at the idea. Of course she’d find a way to put a “fun” twist to everything.

When Hanzo’s voice finally came through the comm again he informed them he was already inside the cabin, crouched in the rafters and looking over the agents. Soldier wasn’t sure he’d ever understand how either Shimada could do stuff like this, but he wasn’t about to question it. If it worked, it worked.

“There are two agents at a terminal with security footage playing,” there’s a pause from the archer before he continues, “It appears to be showing both footage from within the compound and outside.”

“We have not been detected?” Soldier questions. He hadn’t spotted any cameras while they’d made their way here, and he wasn’t sure if Tracer had either.

“You are fine. They appear to only be monitoring the immediate area.”

Soldier releases a small breath. Good. That was good news, if a little disappointing. If security was so lax than he doubted this compound was of much importance. It would still be good to get rid of it, but he doubted they’d make a huge dent in Talon’s forces.

“Four more agents are making rounds. There is a hatch in a backroom,” Hanzo continues. The hatch must lead down to the main compound. “Two agents guard the hatch with two guard dogs. That appears to be all.” So eight agents and two canines. He knew from experience this should be easy for the archer if everything went well. Soldier nods to himself and shifts slightly in his crouch.

“Alright. Take them out,” he says simply and all he gets is an affirming grunt from the archer before he falls silent to get to work. They keep up with the updates from Tracer as they wait.

Its only five minutes later when Hanzo contacts them again. Soldier smiles slightly under his mask in mild amazement at the archer’s speed when he informs them eight agents are now down. There’s a pause when suddenly McCree speaks over the comm from Soldier’s right. “And the canines?” Soldier glances over at the cowboy but he’s busy staring hard at the cabin, waiting for a reply. He supposed Hanzo hadn’t said anything about them, but Soldier had simply assumed he’d taken them out as well. But now there was a stretch of silence and Soldier was getting suspicious.

“Dealt with,” is Hanzo’s eventual response, and Soldier may be wrong about this, he doesn’t really know Hanzo that well, but he sounds almost sheepish. It didn’t matter right now, though, they had a mission to continue. With a few orders they’re moving forward with the plan and taking out the remaining agents, Tracer finally getting to make some ghostly comments out loud as they fight.

“Did you plan these ahead of time?” Soldier questions in disbelief.

“Of course I did, love!”

“I helped!” Lucio adds because of course he did. Soldier sometimes really couldn’t believe these kids.

When they get into the cabin they make a beeline for the hatch. Hanzo is already there, facing away from them and crouched down. Most of the others are too set on getting to the hatch, Reinhardt calling a loud, “Well done, friend!” to Hanzo for his work with the agents, but otherwise they mostly just continue on with the mission. Except for McCree, who is quickly moving over towards Hanzo and crouching down beside him and it is then that Soldier notices movement that is not either of his teammates.

The leader of the group steps away from where Reinhardt and Lucio are watching Tracer set up some kind of device Winston gave her to get the locked hatch open. Soldier steps over to stand behind Hanzo and McCree and look over their shoulders. Laying there, side by side in front of the two Overwatch agents, are two German Shepherds, both happily receiving pets from the archer. One of them even rolls onto their back, wanting belly rubs, tongue lolling out and tail wagging. Soldier watches in amazement as the two dogs absolutely fall over themselves trying to get Hanzo to love them. McCree is smiling brightly and reaches out to try to pet one but the canine seems to switch moods entirely and snarls at him, snapping at his hand to keep him away. Once the cowboy retracts his hand, pouting more than any grown man probably should, the canine is right back to squirming for Hanzo’s attention. The archer glances to McCree, a small, good-natured smile on his face at the gunslinger’s expense.

Soldier can only stare for a long, long while before saying as evenly as possibly, “Not what I think of when I hear ‘dealt with,’ but it will work.” McCree startles, seeming too focused on the dogs and Hanzo to realize Soldier was even there, but Hanzo seemed completely fine, that he had been aware of the elder man’s presence the entire time. Which he probably had. The archer looks back at him, expression carefully schooled, and after a moment he stands and faces him.

“We have a mission to continue,” the eldest Shimada says coolly before pushing forward and heading also towards the hatch, which Reinhardt was just now pulling open. The dogs whine at Hanzo’s departure but then both look at McCree in unison. After a beat they snarl at him, as if telling him to get moving, and the cowboy scrambles to get up and follow the archer, smiling sheepishly at Soldier as he passes.

There’s a pause as Soldier is left with the dogs, looking down at them curiously. Finally, slowly, he reaches down and pats one of the dogs on its head, getting a friendly lick. When Soldier turns away to get back to the mission, he is smiling under the mask.

~~~

The remainder of the mission went mostly well, right until the end. They had the bombs set up, when security doors began to fall, effectively separating them all. Soldier had scowled deeply at this. Talon seemed entirely fine sacrificing their own agents if it meant that Overwatch agents would be going down with them.

Luckily they were all resourceful and had managed to find their own ways out using trap doors and secret exits before the bombs went off. They all met back up where they had been when they began their mission, watching as the bombs detonated and the EMP blast went off. They had specialized chips on their persons that allowed for immunity from the blast and they watched as the ground around the cabin began to give out and collapse, eating up the building. Well, almost all of them.

Soldier had yet to rejoin them, despite informing them he had made it out through the hatch in the cabin, but he was still taking too long for their liking. When he did show up again it was climbing up a hill to their side, out of breath from sprinting to get away from the collapse zone. When he’d spotted them, they’d spotted him and almost immediately Tracer was gasping in absolute glee, but not for Soldier, he knew that, but for the two, full grown German Shepherds under his arms. They seemed entirely calm and relaxed, not seeming to care that the building they’d just been in was no longer existing.

“How cute!!” Tracer giggles, letting each dog sniff her hands before petting them, Lucio close behind, seeming just as excited. 

Reinhardt comes over to clap a heavy hand against Soldier’s back, nearly making him topple over, and laughing loudly. “Still a hero to the innocent, I see!” Soldier grunts and finally sets the dogs down, who seem happy to stick around and let Tracer and Lucio, and now Reinhardt, love on them. While Tracer begins chatting that she and her girlfriend had been thinking about getting a pet and that she totally needed to call her, Soldier looks past the group towards Hanzo and is surprised when he sees the archer smiling freely. He looks relieved and happy, his mask momentarily gone, and when he and Soldier make eye contact Hanzo dips his head in a small, respectful bow. Soldier nods back.

The moment is ruined as McCree bumps Hanzo’s arm good-naturedly and the smile is gone. McCree laughs and says something to the archer, who scowls and huffs, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. 

Jack shakes his head and looks down when one of the dogs bumps his hand and looks up at him with pathetic, begging eyes. Jack chuckles and removes a glove so he can scratch the sweet creature behind the ear while Emily’s squeal of joy sounds from Tracer’s phone as she facetimes her to show her the canines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead! Yay! 
> 
> Sorry so much for the long long long long wait, but I am back and back with a fury! I hope to post many more chapters soon and I hope you enjoy them!
> 
> Next up is Zenyatta! Also, if you have any ideas for chapters, I do have most of the story planned, but I am always looking for ideas and inspiration. Thank you!


	5. Zenyatta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a much needed talk takes a surprising turn, Zenyatta gets to witness a side to Hanzo not many have every seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on a roll baby! Also, just so you know, I loved headcanon that Hanzo had prosthetic legs, so yes, he does still have them in this story.
> 
> But anyway, here's Zenyatta, and next chapter will be Winston! Yaaayy!!

It took a very, very long time for Hanzo to willingly speak to Zenyatta. The omnic did not mind, nor was he truly that surprised. He had heard a lot about his student’s brother long before the archer even came to Overwatch. He knew of his history, what he had done and what he was doing now, and what he was like. A grumpy, stoic man who seemed to hate everything and everyone.

Zenyatta saw right through it. He had not even spoken to Hanzo, only seen him a few times in passing, and he’d been able to see the pain in his soul. The weariness he held in his stance. The self-hatred that scarred his heart. He saw the elder Shimada’s downturned, guilty gaze whenever he believed Genji was not looking. He saw the exhausted, deflation of his features when he believed he had no one to be strong for around.

When Zenyatta had first approached him it had been of his own volition, although he did know Genji wanted them to meet some day. Hanzo may as well have been a cobra with the way he spat venom, storming off soon after. It had not fazed the monk. He was patient and he understood. Zenyatta had been the one to help Genji where Hanzo had hurt him. The omnic was certain Hanzo also blamed him for how different Genji was now, though perhaps only “lowkey” as young Miss Song would say.

Zenyatta understood, but it still made him sad. Such pain no one deserved, and it was about time Hanzo began his path of healing. He deserved a second chance, Genji had given him one, yet still there were many habits and thoughts the eldest Shimada had to surpass.

Luckily, Zenyatta did not have to do much urging when it came to this change. A few weeks into Hanzo’s allegiance with Overwatch he had begun opening up. Only a little here and there, but it was growing and growing, and if Zenyatta could smile he would be beaming every time he caught sight of it. The brothers were still anxious around each other, but theirs was the broken relationship that needed mending, so it only made sense. So long as they were patient and willing to listen and change, all would be well.

Some other relationships were also rather difficult for Hanzo. He had trouble communicating with the younger agents like Hana and Lucio, not because he didn’t try, because he did, but sometimes it really was like they were speaking another language. Tracer also was often “too much” for Hanzo to handle, but the young woman had learned to tone it down just a little bit while around him. He also always seemed rather excited, if one could call it that, when she showed him photos of her newest dogs back home, Abbott and Costello. 

And then, of course, Zenyatta.

In recent days he at least simply seemed put off by Zenyatta rather than angry, seeming to slowly be accepting him and what he had done for Genji. It was slow, so very slow, but Zenyatta was patient and it seemed time really was the key with getting Hanzo out of his shell.

Which was why it was rather odd when Hanzo, seemingly out of nowhere, came up to Zenyatta and invited him to walk. “I would invite you to meditate with me, but I believe it would be rather… difficult to speak to you in such a state,” the archer had explained, and while Zenyatta found it quite humorous that he was going on a “walk” despite his preferred mode of transportation, he had almost immediately agreed.

They were stationed at Gibraltar for the time being, both of them, Mercy, Winston, and Mei. Over the last few months the watchpoint had really begun to sparkle. It had begun with Mercy, McCree, Genji, and Hanzo of all people beginning to pick up scraps and clean up the area. Many others also began to join in when they had the time until most of the small scraps and dangerous, sharp edges had been completely taken care of. Still there was plenty of huge scrap pieces or just abandoned machinery, but it was so much better as of late.

Their walk led them down to the connecting dirt path nearby that had little traffic and had a great view of the surrounding forest. It had rained a few hours before, the dirt now mud and dragonflies buzzing about, but Hanzo didn’t seem to mind his prosthetics getting muddy and Zenyatta was rather happy to be the occasional perch for a passing bug. 

It was peaceful and they were quiet. Zenyatta did not mind waiting for Hanzo to speak first, for it was he who needed to speak, not Zenyatta. Allowing him time to get his mind gathered and ready was not a trying task and he welcomed the time to absorb the surrounding peacefulness of their location.

“I do not hate you,” Hanzo finally says bluntly after a deep breath and the omnic calmly turns his head towards the archer. He is glad to hear this, and he would like to let him know this, but he feels perhaps Hanzo is not done. Hanzo always seemed to study the weight of his words before uttering them and these words were sure to be especially heavy.

“I don’t believe I ever did,” the archer continues, then sighs, head lowering slightly. “I wanted to hate you. Place my anger and guilt on an easy target, but every time I would spite you I quickly felt that it was I who should be spited. It was childish of me to not accept my guilt fully. I regret the way I have treated you.” After a beat Hanzo straightens and turns his head towards the omnic at his side, expression serious and certain. “I am truly sorry.”

Zenyatta is silent for some time, allowing the words to settle and make sure Hanzo is fully finished with his statements. When he is certain that the archer is waiting for his reply the omnic tilts his head in a mildly happy way and offers a small, slow nod. “I am happy,” he begins simply, hands clasped together in his lap. “I have never blamed you for your behavior, Hanzo. I see the pain you carry and I understood why you had such difficulty with my presence. You have much within yourself to discover and forgive.” Here Zenyatta’s head tilts from one side to the other, thoughtful and inquisitive. “If you would allow me, I would be happy to assist you in any way I am able,” he offers, and this was what he had ultimately wanted to communicate to Hanzo. Zenyatta wanted the eldest Shimada to heal, not just for Genji, but for himself, and if he could help in any way than he absolutely wanted to.

Hanzo seems taken aback for a moment, eyes widening marginally and lips thinning, and he quickly looks away and ahead, watching a slowly approaching truck. “It is a… compelling offer, considering your track record,” the archer says and it takes the omnic a moment to recognize the tiniest of smiles at the corner of his lips. He realizes Hanzo is referring to his student and offers a small chuckle at that, but remains ultimately silent to allow Hanzo a chance to think. It takes a while, the archer still staring absently at the approaching truck and the two move to the far side of the road to avoid it.

“I think… I must consider your offer,” Hanzo finally says, brows scrunching. “I do not want help,” he adds honestly, shaking his head and looking down, “But perhaps it is what I need.”

Zenyatta nods sagely, also looking ahead now. The truck has slowed to a near stop some paces ahead of them, which seems odd, but he pays no mind. “It is okay to consider what we want, otherwise we would never live to our fullest, but sometimes also what we need contradicts what we want. It can become a rather confusing and hectic cycle, but I believe you will decide on what is best for yourself.”

Hanzo hums in response, thinking on what to say next, and seems like he is about to reply when suddenly the truck speeds up and is blurring past them, making Hanzo cough slightly at the kicked up dirt and mud. Zenyatta turns to watch the truck go, silent before he hums and shakes his head. “I will not guess what they may be going through… but that was very reckless,” he observes and turns to look back at Hanzo, but the archer isn’t paying attention to him or the truck. Instead he’s staring ahead, wide-eyed, and when Zenyatta also turns to see what he may be staring at he sees a cardboard box laying on the side of the road. Litterers then? That didn’t seem quite right though. This was too out of the way just to go littering and—

The box suddenly moves and what sounds like crying can be heard and suddenly Hanzo is gone, rushing over with more speed Zenyatta has ever seen him demonstrate, even on some missions. The omnic is quick to follow, confused and baffled by Hanzo’s behavior and whatever may be within the box. When he catches up Hanzo is already crouching on the ground, not giving mind to the fact his pants were getting ruined by the mud, his body curved over the box almost protectively. He was muttering to himself, too, a tirade of, “sick, twisted, disgusting, scum,” which suddenly would be cut off with a much gentler, “it’s okay, you’re okay.” Zenyatta has to maneuver quite a bit to see around Hanzo and when he sees just what the archer is protecting within the box even the omnic gasps, “oh no.”

Squirming around within the box are four incredibly tiny puppies, their bodies seemingly entire, brown puffs with itty bitty faces and from Zenyatta’s very limited knowledge on dogs even he recognizes them as Pomeranians. He cannot make any expression but if he could he would be staring in outright shock and horror. Why on earth would anyone want to dispose of these creatures? They seemed much too tiny to be away from their mother and seemed too comfortable with using Hanzo as protection to be any kind of stray. And Hanzo… Zenyatta has never seen him so openly upset. Certainly he has been, but Zenyatta has certainly never experienced it.

Carefully the omnic reaches out and lays a metal hand on the archer’s shoulder, trying to be comforting while also wanting to get his attention. Hanzo jumps and his head snaps around towards Zenyatta. His face is red with obvious fury and… goodness, he wasn’t crying, but his eyes were certainly wetter than they were before. “We should get them back to Gibraltar, yes?” he urges, which seems to get Hanzo moving. He nods a few times, turns away and wipes hard at his face.

“Yes. Yes, they probably should be looked over. We should bring them to Dr Ziegler,” Hanzo agrees then shifts to begin trying to pick up the wiggling, whining puppies. One of them cries out as if in pain and Hanzo is quick to whisper apologies and is especially careful with it.

“Dr Ziegler? Is she not a human doctor?” Zenyatta asks as he deftly reaches down to help carry the pups. The box is already falling apart from the water and mud and even if Hanzo let some of the puppies sit in his gi they were wiggling too much to really keep them safe.

The archer pauses, glances away and scratches at his ear for a moment before replying, “She has taken it upon herself to do some basic research into animal medicine as of late. As I understand it, it is due to the many strays that wander the Gibraltar compound,” he explains, not looking at Zenyatta as he stands, a puppy in each arm, while the other two sit cradled by the omnic’s hands in his lap.

Zenyatta pauses before nodding. “She is a very kindhearted woman.”

“She is.”

With that they begin to hustle back to the watchpoint. They don’t run, but there is an urgency to their pace now. When they make it into the watchpoint they make a beeline to Mercy’s medical wing, Hanzo nearly kicking in the door as he enters. It manages to make Mercy jump and yelp in surprise, looking up to them with wide, surprised eyes, just about to ask what’s wrong, when she lays eyes on the still crying puppies. Her eyes widen even more before she’s telling them to put the puppies on a nearby infirmary bed together. She grabs a few medical supplies and bustles over and gets right to work looking them over while Hanzo and Zenyatta explain how they came upon the pups. Mercy is quick to scowl.

“Kleine Wichser,” she hisses under her breath and shakes her head in disbelief before looking up at Zenyatta. “I apologize, Zenyatta, I am aware I should remain calm and forgiving, but some people are just… assholes.”

There is a long stretch of silence save for the puppies whining and crying until Zenyatta replies calmly, “It is all well. They actually were assholes.” The seemingly sudden and straightforward comment seems to startle Mercy and she looks up wide-eyed. The effect it has on Hanzo, however, has her nearly fall over in shock as the archer throws back his head and lets out a surprised, deep laugh. The laugh seems almost contagious and soon she, too, is giggling nasally and Zenyatta tries and fails to hold back his own chuckles.

~~~

The puppies turn out to be, for the most part healthy, but they are dirty and are just on the verge of malnourished. Zenyatta had been right in that they had been too young to be away from their mother and so Hanzo had offered to head into the nearest town and get appropriate formula and bottles, along with some flea medicine. While he had been gone Mercy had patched up a few wounds, gotten them all washed up and dried, with Zenyatta’s help, and put a tiny splinter on one of the pups legs when she realizes it is broken. They’ll need to bring them to a professional vet soon, but for now stabilizing them and giving them some love couldn’t hurt.

Hanzo gets back in record time, and really it had to be record, Zenyatta had never seen such a quick grocery trip, and gotten to work preparing the formula for the pups.

Now the three of them relaxed scattered around the infirmary. Mercy sat in her office chair with a uniquely colored, golden Pomeranian in her arms, feeding it gently, her eyes nearly sparkling in adoration at the tiny creature. Hanzo was better at hiding how absolutely over the moon he was for the puppies, but even he had a giddy smile tugging at his face as he feeds the one with the splint. Zenyatta holds two, the runt in his real arms and another with a white belly in a spectral pair of arms, feeding both, his mind calm and content now that their rescue mission was a success.

The silence was positively calming, the energy from early finally evaporating into a content, metaphorical sigh. Zenyatta loved it.

“I’m naming this one Buttercup. I don’t care what anyone says. Her name is Buttercup,” Mercy suddenly speaks up, making the boys look over at her. She was still staring starry eyed down at the puppy in her arms, absolutely in love with the little one.

“What if ‘Buttercup’ turns out to be a man?” Hanzo questions after a beat, brow arching and a small smirk pulling at his lips. Mercy doesn’t miss a beat as she finally looks up at him with narrowed eyes.

“Than his name will be Buttercup, don’t fight me on this Shimada,” she says with a finality to her voice that no one dare argue. Hanzo looks down, still smiling, and his shoulders shake with silent chuckles.

“Yes ma’am,” he says quietly, obviously trying to hold back another bought of laughter, which earns him a satisfied humph and nod from the medic.

Zenyatta watches the two in silence, pleasantly surprised at the interaction. He hadn’t missed how these two had somehow gotten close at some point, but this was so remarkably refreshing and sweet, Zenyatta would hate to interrupt. He looks back down at the two puppies in his lap and scratches gently at their heads with another pair of spectral hands. The one with the white belly whines slightly and the runt begins flopping their front paws as if trying to reach Zenyatta’s hand without stopping their meal. It was incredibly adorable, and Zenyatta would hate to send these guys to a pound. He glances up at Hanzo and Mercy again. He doubted those two would let anyone ever even think about that anyway. They needed a home…

Zenyatta looks around himself, considering something as he thinks about how big Gibraltar is and how clean it has become. He wondered how Winston felt about dogs…


	6. Winston

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winston is a scientist, and he like finding proof for suspicions or theories, and sometimes that proof really is so much better than he could ever hope for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Less of an interaction and more of just observations and a bit of an update for the Gibraltar Poms! I kinda rushed this so there's bound to be some grammatical mistakes but I just really wanna share, so please let me know if you see any issues.
> 
> Next up will be Ana!

Winston really wasn’t sure how this had happened. One day Gibraltar was a calm and quiet place, now it was filled with constant, and he really did mean constant, yapping.

It had been a rather normal day when Zenyatta had approached him with four itty bitty Pomeranians in his lap. They had been abandoned, left out by the side of the road, and in need of medical attention. Thankfully they had already been fed and brought to the vet for check ups and any shots they could have at this age, so that was good, but now they needed a place to stay.

When Zenyatta had been going on about how Gibraltar was a perfect place for the puppies, plenty of room to play, much safer now, and always had someone within the facility that could look out for them, Winston realized he was doomed. There was no way he would be able to tell the sweet omnic no, he wasn’t sure anyone really could, and when the gorilla spotted Mercy and Hanzo looking out at them from around a corner down the hall, he realized that that was exactly the plan.

The Gibraltar Poms, as they’d been nicknamed, became a constant in Winston’s life soon after. He didn’t hate the creatures, absolutely not they were the cutest things he had ever seen, but sometimes they did get loud. And the incessant squealing over them from other agents didn’t help in that regard either. It was, however, cute to watch who the poms liked best.

Buttercup, who did turn out to be a boy, was constantly at Mercy’s side, her little nurse. Winston had walked by the medical wing on multiple occasions and spotted her trying to train the pup to fetch her supplies on command. He only seemed happy to roll around or chew on his squeaky toy shaped like a little devil. A lost cause, certainly, and Mercy soon realized this. She still bought him a tiny, dog sized nurse cap though, which he seemed especially proud of.

The other three pups took a little longer to find names for. Tracer had immediately begged to name them but Winston shut her down. She’d already gotten to name her two new German Shepherds, Abbott and Costello, she didn’t need any more power. No, the rest of the names tended to come out of getting to see each puppy’s personality.

The next one that got a name was Lieutenant, who had taken a liking to Soldier 76 almost immediately. He looked to be one of the bigger pups, dark dark fur with a white belly. No one knew how it happened but one day the little guy just began following the old soldier around, sniffing at him curiously at first, then running around his feet and nearly tripping him up.

Winston had been sure Jack would get irritated with the tiny pom yapping at him and running around, but then one day the two came strolling out with Lieutenant marching, actually marching his tiny puppy feet, by Jack’s side. The pom had his chest puffed out, an especially long tuft of white fur sticking out like a badge, and when Jack stopped, he stopped, sitting down and panting. Winston was stunned. Evidently Jack had a knack for training canines. He wondered if he should send the soldier to go help Mercy out…

Next was Sunshine, or just Sunny for short. She was the runt of the pack , and the only lady, but she certainly didn’t let her brothers push her around. The most active and rambunctious of the group, she seemed to take up position as alpha almost immediately. It was more difficult to determine which agent was Sunny’s favorite, however. While all the puppies loved everyone, but just had obvious preferences, Sunny really did seem to just love everyone. She loved running around to get love from every single agent present and didn’t discriminate. All pets were good pets it seemed. 

Sunny didn’t have a favorite, but she did turn out to be someone else’s favorite. When Winston came to talk to some of the agents currently resting in the rec room, he hadn’t been expecting Zarya to walk past with tiny runt Sunny perched on her shoulder between her neck and the metal collar of her outfit. Winston had blanched for a while, and he was sure from Tracer’s snickering she had to have taken a picture, but finally he was able to ask what Zarya was doing. The powerful woman had shrugged a little and said bluntly, “She is tall now.” After that Winston did tend to notice the Russian bodybuilder seeking out the smallest of the Gibraltar Poms.

Last was Ken. This puppy was dark chocolate brown and had, unfortunately, been injured upon being thrown out of the truck when first abandoned. He had been fixed up and healed, yet still he retained a slight limp in his front, left leg. It didn’t stop him, though. He was just as lively as his siblings and just excited to be pet. It did seem rather fitting, however, how much he loved Genji. He wanted the youngest Shimada to carry him around whenever he was present, or to keep petting him as much as possible. It was Genji who suggested the name, saying it meant “strong,” and it only seemed fitting for this puppy.

The Pomeranians had their favorites, loved them the most and seemed to be attracted to them no matter who else was in the room. Well, except for one exception.

Winston was a very smart and very observant gorilla and he quickly noticed a common thread with their local, grump archer. At first it had been a seemingly random change in mood from stoic and cold to stoic and cold but maybe that’s a bit of a smile right there? Winston did not believe in random, however, not truly, not with people. There was a pattern, there had to be.

Turns out he wasn’t even the first one to figure out the connecting thread, however, but rather Hana Song. Winston had been listening absently to conversations around the kitchen one day and had heard D.Va and Lucio chatting about doing something or other with dogs to get a reaction out of Hanzo. When Winston had questioned them what they were up to they hadn’t hid anything, commenting that Hanzo seemed to have a soft spot for wagging tales and panting tongues, so to speak.

For a while Winston was skeptical, it tended to be a common mood for him. He wanted solid proof or at least to personally witness this preference within the archer for himself. For a while he got nothing, he wasn’t often around the archer to notice, but now it seemed he finally had his proof.

No matter what, when Hanzo was at Gibraltar, the dogs and he sought each other out. The entirety of his time there would have all four puppies following him around, playing with him, wanting to be pet or picked up. It was honestly pretty hard to miss. None of the other “favorites” of the puppies seemed to mind, in fact nearly all of them seemed to get a pretty good kick out of it so Winston could only guess they had been entirely aware of it.

Winston on many occasions would walk by Hanzo and see a fluffy head bouncing slightly with each step within the folds of his gi, or find Hanzo trying to meditate with four puppies clambering over him to try to get his attention, or Hanzo tossing a toy and all pups rushing to get it and bring it back to him. Every time Winston saw the five together he also noticed that Hanzo just seemed so much happier. He knew the archer had had a rough time of it, he knew Hanzo preferred to keep to himself and not show his emotions to anyone, but in these moments Winston saw Hanzo more open and vulnerable than he had ever seen.

And it wasn’t just the puppies, Winston realized one day, that seemed to be breaking down Hanzo’s walls either. It had been after an exceptionally difficult mission and most of the team had come to Gibraltar to rest. They all looked like they would just about fall over at any moment and Winston just wanted to finish up the report quickly before calling it a day. On his was back to his room, however, he’d spied someone on the couch, reclined and probably passed out. Winston had gone to wake them up and hopefully lead them to their bed, but once he neared he’d found not one but two bodies.

McCree was a big man and tended to take up more space than he actually did and it looked like he just about swallowed Hanzo up where he lay curled around him. The archer seemed perfectly content to squeeze into as small a ball as possible and sleep with his head at a weird angle buried in the crook of McCree’s neck. Scattered around them were the poms, Sunny laying on her back between the two men’s stomachs, Lieutenant laying across McCree’s leg, Ken curled as close as possible to Hanzo’s back, and Buttercup snoring while laying inside McCree’s hat that had flopped off his head when he lay down.

Winston couldn’t bring himself to wake them and had quietly left, a bit more pep in his step from the adorable sight. It seemed he was getting a lot of answers to his questions lately, plus some extra, and he couldn’t have been happier with the results.


	7. Ana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ana quite likes Hanzo. He's smart, logical, makes Jesse behave when she isn't there, and it seems she't just going to keep getting more reasons to like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Ana makes an appearance! I'm actually really happy with how the characterization came out in this. It still feels like them throughout all of their conversations. Though I'm always happy to hear some criticism or ideas!
> 
> Next is ma girl, Zarya!

“Why are we patrolling here again?” D.Va whines for what has to be the twentieth time since they started walking around the beautiful streets of Numbani.

“It is important both to familiarize yourself with your environment at any given opportunity, while also making sure no antagonistic force is in the area,” Ana’s voice comes over the comm, sounding just slightly irritated at having to repeat herself yet again. She crouched atop a building just a block away, watching her fellow Overwatch agents through the scope of her sniper while also keeping an eye on nearby rooftops and alleys.

“I agree with Ana,” Hanzo says from his place beside D.Va as they walk the streets, in casual clothing, and keeping a look out for any suspicious activity.

D.Va throws her head back and groans long and loud in agitation before rolling her head to the side to give Hanzo a dissatisfied, grumpy look. “Of COURSE you do. You’ve said so every time she says that stuff!” she harrumphs and a low laugh sounds over the comms.

“I only say it so much because you ask so much,” Ana smiles despite herself. She knew D.Va was probably just as tense as the rest of them and was trying to cover it up. Tomorrow was going to be a big day, finally meeting the genius Efi Oladele and her creation Orisa, and it had to go perfectly. It had been tense with Talon lately, to say the least, and so Overwatch was going out of their way to find new heroes to hopefully add to their mix.

Numbani was so peaceful, though, that Ana supposed she could understand why D.Va would feel all these patrols as being rather unnecessary. Numbani was a the City of Harmony after all, a beautiful location for both humans and omnics, and its technology extensively superior thanks to it, that it seemed like no threat could possible be hiding in its shadows. Plus they had been careful to get this meeting set up quickly and quietly, which would also assist in keeping from being detected.

But Ana was a creature of habit, it would seem. Hardly not to the same degree as Jack, but certain things really did just stick with you. Logically, the amount of patrolling they were doing did seem perhaps a tad excessive, but Ana preferred to be safe than sorry, and from the way Hanzo just about jumped at the chance to go patrolling, in his own Hanzo-y way, Ana had a feeling he felt the same.

Maybe they could show D.Va some mercy though…

Letting out a theatrical sigh Ana shakes her head and offers kindly, “I think Hanzo and I can handle the rest on our own, if you’d like to head back.” Almost immediately D.Va is groaning in relief and turning to march down the street towards their hotel, and wasn’t that odd? Staying at a hotel instead of some secret base. It had been Efi’s pressuring and swearing it had top notch security that had eventually sold them all on the idea.

“Yes ma’am I am out of here!” she cries and Hanzo watches her go with a raised brow and crossed arms.

“No gaming, though. I heard you playing with Lucio much too late last night. Get some rest,” Ana adds on, however, which has D.Va scoffing.

“I make my living off of streaming you know. What if I have a big one scheduled for today? You’d be letting all of my fans down!”

“You don’t.” Before Ana can reply to D.Va it’s Hanzo speaking up. When the young mech driver turns back to him in surprise he scratches at his ear and clears his throat. “Have a stream, I mean. You don’t have one today,” he adds on almost lamely, but his voice is still remarkably controlled.

“How…” D.Va begins, coming closer, head tilted to the side, “do you know that?”

There is a long stretch of silence that Ana doesn’t dare break, her lips pressed shut to keep from giggling as she realizes where this is going. “I… perhaps… keep up with your streaming on occasion,” Hanzo begins and then all three of them are speaking at once.

“I really only glanced at it—“

“’Perhaps,’ Hanzo?”

“OH my god you’re my FAN???”

Even through her scope Ana can see that Hanzo has turned bright red and she finally lets herself begin to cackle as D.Va rushes up and takes a selfie with the very flustered archer and asks if he wants an autograph. Hanzo grumbles something in Japanese that Ana is pretty sure is a curse from how often she heard it from Genji back when he was in Blackwatch, but D.Va is unfazed. The young woman is laughing up a storm at Hanzo’s expense and as she nearly skips away she calls back that she’ll get him some exclusive merch.

There is a moment’s peace after that, Hanzo trying to calm himself and push on with the patrol while Ana’s giggles die. “You’re going to be hearing about this for a while, you know,” the sniper decides to say and Hanzo sighs loudly over the comm.

“I am aware thank you,” he replies curtly, which only earns him another chuckle from the sniper. She had learned rather quickly not to be affected by his crabby attitude; he rarely meant anything by it anyway. If anything she found it cute, really, but she would never tell him that. He would probably stop talking to her for some time and she quite liked their occasional conversations over tea.

No, the only person allowed to call Hanzo cute seemed to be a certain cowboy he’d grown close to, and that was pretty darn cute too. Ana’s old student had been overjoyed to see her when she arrived at the new Overwatch, which was sweet, and despite the obvious signs that he’d grown quite a bit since they’d last seen each other, he was still just as easy to read. Or perhaps Ana just knew his tells so well by now. Whichever, it was easy to see that Jesse was head over heels for the eldest Shimada, and it seemed Hanzo’s feelings weren’t all that different.

The two seemed to gravitate towards each other when in the same place, leaned into each other’s space and spoke in hushed words to one another, content to just exist with one another. Then there was the sudden, “You know, Han, you are damn near cuter than a bug’s ear,” or, “You sure are prettier than a mess of friend catfish,” which were obviously meant to be playful and it always seemed to make Hanzo snort and go to cover his mouth.

Ana thought it was adorable, but also felt conflicted. They were very, very close, but there seemed to still be some kind of unspoken barrier between the two that made the sniper question whether they were actually together yet or were just blind idiots. It was that unknown that kept her from making a comment on it and instead just had to enjoy watching the show for what it was.

Speaking of watching, she should check in on Hanzo again. She had been preoccupied scanning the buildings a few blocks away for some time. She scans the street of the path the patrol has been planned on, searching for the archer, but doesn’t find him. He’s no where on the path anymore. This was not good.

“Hanzo, do you copy?” Ana asks over the comm. If there had been a problem he would have said something. This wasn’t like him—

“I apologize, I stepped off the path, North of the square,” Hanzo’s voice comes in and does he sound sheepish? Well, he should be, worrying Ana like that. The sniper only takes a moment to have visual on Hanzo again and finds him standing, dusting off his knees, with a fence behind him. Ana’s brow furrows in confusion as she looks for what must have drawn Hanzo’s attention. The fence wraps around an encloses a lush, green space with trees and benches and toys everywhere. Just on the other side of the fence where Hanzo stands Ana then spots the hoard of dogs shoving their faces through the bars towards the archer.

Was this a dog park? Was Hanzo petting the dogs there?

Ana feels something squeeze at her heart and she fights the urge to coo at the thought. Hanzo is beginning to walk back towards the path and suddenly Ana doesn’t want him to do that. They’re all stressed, they all deserved something to relax them.

“Actually, why don’t you stay there? I need to stretch my legs and that place looks like a lovely walking spot,” Ana says thoughtfully and she sees Hanzo hesitate and glance back at the park.

“Ah… yes…” the archer begins, considering something for a long moment before nodding and finishing, “Yes, very well.”

It takes Ana hardly anytime to get down and make her way towards Hanzo. It would have taken even shorter had it not been for her need to stay sneaky and keep any civilians from seeing her. By the time she walks up to Hanzo she finds him crouched down by the fence, head nearly leaning against the black metal, hands through the bars as he pets the eager dogs he’s attracted.

“Now how did you get all of them to trust you?” the sniper asks conversationally and for a moment Hanzo doesn’t say anything, not startled by Ana’s sudden comment. Finally, he just shrugs with one shoulder, his body language strangely more open and loose than before.

“I do not know. They always seem to like me,” Hanzo replies. His body language may be more relaxed, but his voice is as controlled and even as ever.

“Animals tend to be able to tell the character of a person without needing to know them,” Ana suggests, her voice low.

Hanzo huffs something that may be a chuckle and shakes his head, scratching a golden retriever’s head. “Should not that mean they would run from me or attack me?” he questions with a bitterness on his tongue. Ana doesn’t miss a beat, however, and shrugs.

“I guess we all know something you don’t know,” she says and Hanzo looks back at her in mild surprise, brows furrowed. There’s more weight to her words than one may initially see, but Hanzo can feel the strength of Ana’s word choice. She had said “we,” not “they.” 

The archer clears his throat and turns back to the dogs, obviously not sure what to do with that. Despite how playful and fluid his interactions were with Jesse, it seemed he still had trouble accepting kind words from others. It was sad, and Ana could understand it. She knew time would be the key to helping him let kindness in, so, while she tried to drop her little kind moments for him when she could, she kept her distance.

“Yes, well,” Ana suddenly claps her hands, getting Hanzo’s full attention again as she moves them along. “I would actually quite like a walk, so why don’t we go in and you can pet all of them?” Hanzo’s cheeks and ears turn pink and he scratches at his ear unconsciously.

“I believe it would be rather odd for us to enter without any dog of our own, only to pet other people’s,” he says, shaking his head, though he seemed oddly sad at his own logic. Usually he was quite happy with logic and following it, but it seemed here that wasn’t the case.

Ana scoffs, throwing her head and reaching up to finally pull down her hood. “Nonsense! Your mother wants to go and walk with the dogs. Would anyone truly belittle or look down on an old woman and her generous son walking in a beautiful park and enjoying the local pups?” she announces rather loudly. As she speaks Hanzo stands and turns to look at her in disbelief, head shaking just slightly like he can’t control it, but there’s just the smallest of upturns to the corner of his lips.

“I… highly doubted anyone would believe you and I are mother and son,” he says, though his voice isn’t confrontational. Instead it is light, and he obviously doesn’t care about the logic anyway as he offers his arm to let Ana hook her own through.

“You’re adopted. Obviously,” Ana shrugs as they make their way to the park entrance, the hoard of dogs following them on the other side of the fence, tails wagging so hard they’ll probably kick up a breeze soon.

Hanzo actually makes a fake gasp at that, eyes widening in fake surprise, and it takes everything in Ana not to stare at the sudden display of emotion, even if it was just for play. “I’m adopted??”

“Yes, sweetie, I’m so sorry I waited so long to tell you, but you’re still my little boy, don’t you worry,” Ana grins, finally letting herself chuckle under her breath along with Hanzo.

They end up hardly walking at all. Ana takes a seat at a bench and any time anyone asks which is hers she just points to the grown, trained killer who is playing tug of war or throwing a Frisbee or just straight up laying on the ground with everyone else’s dogs.

Eventually Hanzo makes his way over, a trail of dogs behind him like he’s a momma duck, and sits with Ana, both of them absently petting the dogs that join them. For a while they’re quiet, just enjoying the beautiful view and the adorable canines that are pumping at their hands for love. Then Hanzo turns towards Ana, however and says, “Should I call Fareeha to tell her ‘welcome to the family’?”

Ana nearly falls off the bench from bursting out into laughter.


End file.
